


Take It Slow

by orphan_account



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt, a lil sad, fluff at the end, stubborn kurapika
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:34:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26128876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Tumblr Request sent to me on my blog gurensichinose: "It's not that easy" with Kurapika
Relationships: Kurapika (Hunter X Hunter)/Reader
Kudos: 72





	Take It Slow

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is gurensichinose you can see everything early there!

Grudges are easy to form, but a challenge to let go of. They can hurt every aspect of the soul, the heart, the mind. They can crush a person underneath its weight. You wish Kurapika knew that.

Kurapika lays weakly beside you on a bed, a cool damp towel strewn across his forehead. He fell ill after maxing out most of his power on the Phantom Troupe. He almost had them, they were almost in his grasp and finally, he could squash the spiders beneath his feet. They escaped once Kurapika tasted blood in his cough, and his vision blurred. You remember catching him in your arms, gently patting his cheek to get him to wake; ignoring the troupe exiting the building, unaware of the blessing given upon their lives.

His power is too strong for him, the hatred in his heart eats at him, he’ll die if he doesn’t stop. Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you watch his chest rise and fall. Fingers brushing through the oily blonde hair, pushing them against the pillowcase beneath his head. You ignored the warm tear rolling down your cheek, focusing on flipping the towel to the cooler side against his forehead. He hasn’t woken yet in two days, you’re hoping today is the day you can see his grey-blue eyes staring back at yours. His red eyes are beautiful, but they’re fueled with hate each time you see them.

Kurapika stirs, a small husky grunt emitting as his eyes blearily blinked open. A smile graced your lips, wiping quickly at your eyes and cheeks before he could see the tears staining your skin.

“Where am I?” He asks, confusion in his words.

“You fell ill on our last mission, I brought you home,” you mumble before getting up to grab him a bottle of water on the nightstand.

His skin is pale. His eyes had rings beneath them that made them appear sunken in. Your heart clenched, teeth sinking into your bottom lip to conceal tears from slipping down your cheeks.

“I didn’t kill them, did I,” he says as a statement rather than a question.

Meekly, you nodded, moving to him to lift his head and offer him the water, which he took a small sip of before dismissing it. His eyes, a mute red, his energy not to par to flash the vibrant scarlet.

“You need rest, please relax, Kurapika,” you whisper with a pleading expression that he refuses to meet.

“I can’t relax, I almost had them [Name], they were almost mine and I could find my peace,” his voice takes on a tone of defeat, anger. You can see the anguish in his eyes as he finally meets yours.

“You need to regain your health. You need a break, a break where you don’t focus on them, and focus on yourself. You’ll never be able to defeat them if you aren’t at your best,” you plead again, and he looks away.

He’s thinking, sitting up through a pained expression as he does. You could tell he had something to say, it’s on the tip of his tongue. His eyes focused on his fingers that were missing his chains.

“It’s not that easy,” he dismisses you again, making your blood boil.

  
  


“Easy? Do you think it’s easy watching you work yourself so hard you get sick? You could die. Is that not processing for you? Is hate in your heart worth dying for? You’ll die before you can avenge your family, you’ll die before you can collect all the eyes. Do you think I’m implying it is easy to watch you die and beg you to care about yourself? I’m not asking you to forget about the spiders and never come back to it, I’m asking you to let yourself recharge to full health for a week, is that so difficult for you?” Your voice raises in volume with each passing sentence until it cracked, a tear falling down your face.

His lips were parted as he stared at you, you’re not this emotional. Despite Kurapika being someone high on emotions, he isn’t sure how to handle yours. Especially since yours is towards him. Before he could get a word out, you’re standing beside the bed and grabbing the damp towel.

“Sorry for snapping. I’ll be back,” you whisper, clenching the towel tight between your fingers; ignoring the trickle of water running down your wrists.

You disposed of the towel in the dirty clothes bin, grabbing a new hand towel and soaking it in cold water, squeezing it out. This felt too reoccurring. Kurapika fell ill because of his hate more times than you could count. You couldn’t count how many rags you put on his forehead to ease his fevers, how many times you had to feed him soup because he was too weak to lift the spoon. This isn’t a complaint, you’d take care of him any time he needed it at the drop of a dime but you worry that one day there will be no one there for you to take care of. Kurapika will have succumbed to his hatred, the chain in his heart would have killed him, and you’re left mourning a corpse.

Your reflection stared back at you, you looked horrible. Sleep deprivation clear in your bloodshot watery eyes, your hair askew. With a sigh, you set the rag aside and washed your face with a handful of water, patting it dry with another hand towel you blindly searched for. You had to keep it together and be the support system Kurapika needs. If you aren’t, he hasn’t opened himself up to anyone else besides Leorio to support him. Leorio isn’t here. You’re all Kurapika has.

The door pushed open quietly and Kurapika looked back up at you, watching you close the door and approach the bed.

“Lie down, you probably have a fever,” your tone is gentle, and he hesitantly complies.

“I didn’t know I worried you so deeply,” he whispers, you could feel his eyes on you when you reach for the thermometer.

“I always worry for you, I didn’t mean to snap and be so rash,” you apologize again, and he grabs your wrist before you could move to take his temperature.

His grip is weak. You could shrug him off if you wanted to, but he had something to say. He needed your attention to him rather than taking care of him. Kurapika knows you don’t mind taking care of him, but he knows he’s deteriorating. He didn’t know how much it hurt you. He didn’t know how much you cared.

“I’ll take a break for a week. I don’t want to worry you and I don’t want you to see me die,” he trails off at the last part.

You shrug off his hand only to hug him tightly, you’re laying on top of him to do so. Kurapika’s face flushes a dark red color, and he isn’t sure how to react at first. You’ve never expressed this much affection, but he eventually hugs you back just as tight; if not tighter.

“Thank you,” you whisper against his neck.

“You’re welcome,” he whispers into your hair.

Butterflies fill your stomach when he rubs your back to soothe you.


End file.
